When a Cricket chirps in the Night
by xiMarionette
Summary: As an oblivious, chauvinistic, arrogant wolf, Paul had no idea how to handle the situation when he had discovered his fiery, sharp-tongued, heavily accented imprint wasn't responding to his advances. So, he did what was completely normal in his own mind: kidnap her and tie her to his bed. PaulxOC
1. Chapter 1

**When a Cricket chirps in the Night**

**Chapter 1**

The tourists within the swerving bus screamed, gripping onto their chairs (anything in reality) for a sense of balance. Some were not so lucky and went crashing within the aisle of the tour bus, still screaming bloody murder as the bus leaned on two of it's tires on one side. It didn't help when the bus came down to all four, that it was sliding down a muddy hill.

Cricket waited until the bus came to a rocky stop. Her breaths were coming fast and hard, heart pumping as if she had personally competed in the Olympics. She brushed back her lion mane-like fiery hair, pushing away her curls as she glanced at everyone in the tour bus and blinked rapidly. "Wha in tarnation jus' happen'd?" she chirped, her southern drawl annoying her seatmate.

"Shut it, Cricket." The man next to her, who groaned in pain, said. "Fuck, I can hear your Texas-ass from a mile away."

Her freckled face twisted in a menacing look. "Shut yer mouth!" she said, punching his shoulder. Cricket ignored his groan and peered around the other groaning members of the tour. "W'eres the tour guide?"

Speak of the devil.

A scrawny man struggled to lift himself from his seat and address to everyone. "Is—is everyone alright?" he asked.

"My spleen!"

The tour guide winced and turned to the bus driver who was knocked out, most likely from the pure relief of being able to stabilize the giant transportation vehicle. He turned back to his tourists and ordered them to check on their seatmates while he fished out a map from his backpack. His eyes squinted, darting around the map and twisting it around until he had figured out where they were stuck. "A-aha!" he stabbed at the map, nearly poking a hole in it. "We're near Forks!" The tour guide turned back to the people of the bus with an expression of heaven as he yelled, "We're saved!"

He was officially an idiot.

Cricket snarled, glaring at the back of the tour guide's head as he walked ahead of everybody else, flashing his flashlight from side to side before continuing in the dark. It was one in the morning for Christ sakes!

Cricket Turner (which she was unfortunately named by her highly-medicated mother and hippy-like father) had saved enough money from working as a teller in a bank near her apartment back in rodeo Texas. She had just turned twenty-one years old last month and spent all her savings into the dream of exploring the different states of America. It was a dream she has ever had as a child and she was lucky to have found the tour in the first place.

This specific tour was created by the state of Texas as a present towards the newly college graduates. They decided it as something like a last three months of freedom before slaving off to job-hunting and family-breeders. Starting in the capital of Texas, the tour was to travel clockwise, traveling to California to Oregon to Washington to Idaho to so on and on forth. The tour was hella expensive and was stated to travel around the country in a swirling oval to explore all fifty states. They had held Hawaii off for last, because you know, they save the best for last.

But look at this; it wasn't going swell. Nope, not at all!

Cricket whined as she dragged her luggage behind her. "Ah'm gunna kill tha' sonuvabitch!"

Her seatmate, Jeremy, rolled his eyes, blowing his blond hair out of his chocolate eyes. "Sometimes, I wonder if you have a whole different language for you southerners."

Cricket rolled her eyes at her Californian-bred friend. "Ah mean, lookit 'ere, Jer'my! We're in Washington! Washington, dagnabbit! We jus' startin' our trip, too, and now that bus be goin' all git nabbin' in Washington?"

Jeremy merely watched as the southern redhead fired up, spewing out words that made no sense at all to others as he blinked rather bored. Born and bred in California, but transferred to Texas for college, Jeremy still had no idea what the norm southerners say most of the time. All he knew was that most likely most of them inbred with their family and created this thick-ass language that no one in the world can understand besides their relatives.

He rolled his eyes and nodded towards the moving herd. "Come on, redhead, let's go."

"Aww' man!" Cricket sobbed, walking further into the night as she dragged her luggage behind her. Her pale green eyes watched as the tour guide whipped up into shape, gibbering with the other graduates as if trying to gain their good side.

He hasn't been getting anything from her besides her spitfire attitude.

Cricket sighed and continued after Jeremy, her converse wrapped around her swelled feet. Nothing sounded better than some tequila and jack! She hummed in appreciation, sighing as she followed the crowd.

As the group continued to follow the freeway (and yes, a lot of the college graduates did complain rather loudly), they finally found light.

"Hey, y'all, there's light!" Cricket cheered, relief to get away from the dark.

Soon enough, everyone stood in front of a shady motel with the neon light of the Motel 7 Heaven sign fizzling every so often. Many of the people shuffled in place, reluctant to get a room when they should be in a very expensive hotel room as planned by the brochure.

"Come on! I've talked with the motel owner and he says we can get a very generous deal if everyone nabs a room!" the tour guide said, smiling brightly as if there wasn't a possibility of a murder happening tonight.

Jeremy sighed, turning his neck and cracking it before heading towards the motel. "Come on, Cricket, let's go. I'll room with you."

Cricket frowned at the Californian surfer, picking up her luggage and following him slowly as her eyes darted from one place to another. She's known the dude for over two weeks now and she wasn't suspicious of anything happening tonight. But the motel wasn't exactly a comfortable thought. "Are yew sure there ain't gonna be any killin's or sumthin'?"

Jeremy finished writing off and signing some paperwork with the motel owner and turned. "Cricket, just shut the hell up and let's go to our room. I'm tired."

"Buh' I want liquor!"

"Fine, just give me an hour then we'll go. I want to rest my feet!"

As they passed the tour guide, Cricket gave him a stinky eye and wasn't at all surprised when he returned it twice-fold. During the whole tour, that rat-face had been giving her the jeebers and made snarky comments about her heavy southern accent throughout the two weeks. She wouldn't at all be surprised if he dumped her body in a ditch tonight.

The thought made Cricket click her tongue and reminded herself to put her Swiss Army knife under her pillow tonight.

"Cricket!"

"Ah'm comin', ah'm comin'!"

Cricket walked inside the motel room and dumped her luggage onto the bed and screamed loudly. "Mah feet hurt!"

Jeremy came out of the restroom and rubbed his very attractive face from the tiredness threatening to overtake him. "I can really use some alcohol."

The motel owner who was checking in on everybody's rooms popped his head into their doorway and grinned. "There's a bar down south about a mile or two! It doesn't close until five in the morning, I say! You, youngsters, should go check it out before leaving in the morning."

"Less' do that!" Cricket jumped off the bed and grinned at Jeremy! "Is's only one-forty five!"

"Fine," Jeremy sighed.

Suddenly, at his agreement, the door was flocked by the other females of the tour. They immediately surrounded Jeremy, squealing and laughing flirtatiously as they told they were going to tag along with Jeremy. It was one of the reasons why Jeremy stuck himself to Cricket rather than the others. The cowboys were threatened by his Californian-self while the innumerous Luanne's intimidated him with their bold sassy sexy bodies and threats of rape.

But Cricket was just Cricket. She had no interest whatsoever in him and he was glad for it.

"I'm going with Cricket."

At that said, Cricket found herself at the glares of the other women.

"Whuh do ya want?" she said, narrowing her eyes back at them.

They merely scoffed and rolled their eyes. "Jeez, who let that trailer trash here?"

Instead of confronting the women, she merely sneered at them and walked into the restroom to change.

After she showered, Cricket looked into the mirror and wrinkled her nose at her reflection. She brought her hand to her face and fingered one of the many freckles that splattered on her face like rain. Her mother always called Cricket her little freckled-spotted egg, but damn…Cricket didn't like it! She hated her freckles. It literally covered her whole face, neck, and shoulders. It was no surprise that the damn brown spots scavenged around her breasts too!

She merely sighed and started combing at her tumultuous hair, untangling it and blow-drying it till it literally was a bird's nest.

Why couldn't she just have normal brown straight hair, was a mystery to this day.

Cricket whistled through her pouty pink lips, applying light make up and mascara. She fished out torn jean shorts and a mini-white tee, finishing off with her lovely ripped up converse. Just because her family was trailer trash didn't mean that she shouldn't look like it!

Jeremy knocked on the door. "Hurry it up in there! I want to sleep soon, you know!"

"Ah'm ready!" she chirped, throwing the door open and chucking her luggage within the closet. "W'ere's the room key?"

"I have it," Jeremy said as he walked towards the door. "Shirley and the rest of her group are going to be joining us."

Before she can even look digusted at what he said, a short blond made way towards them. Shirley, the mini-barbie wannabe smirked at Cricket, looking at her up and down before saying, "You can actually clean up for once."

Cricket wasn't at all threatened. The short woman had nothing on her five-eleven tall frame. "Come on, shorty, don't drag us down." She merely said before turning her heel and walking towards the direction the motel owner pointed to.

Shirley fumed but said nothing as she hooked her arm around Jeremy's and pressing her rather large breasts against his side.

Cricket laughed at Jeremy's misfortune but thought nothing of it. She continued to walk through the night, somewhat enjoying the cool breeze as it toyed with her curls. The girls behind were already complaining about the walk and their itsy bitsy feet in their itsy bitsy teeny tiny cute shoes. That's why Cricket was smart. She wore converse and she was already used to walking two miles from work to home.

The bar was in sight and it was just as lively.

It wasn't big per say, but it was comfortable. The people in the bar obviously knew each other from the way they greeted one another with a friendly hug. And from the way they were looking at the newcomers, they were curious.

"How are you doing tonight, hot stuff?" the bartender asked with a wink, cleaning the glass mug in his hand with a small towel before giving his whole attention to Cricket who blinked at him rather owlishly.

"Ah'm doin' aw'right," she answered. "Ah'll have a coke wiff sum rum."

The bartender literally leaned away from the bar, blinking at Cricket with an incredulous expression before Jeremy translated her words. "She'll just have a Cuba Libre and I'll have Heineken."

The others immediately ordered their drinks and were already having a blast.

Jeremy's face was flushed red and eyes glazed as he forced himself to listen to Shirley's fast-paced words, not understanding a single word she was saying. When he turned to Cricket, he found her staring across the bar to the entrance, which was blocked by a couple people. Thinking nothing of it, he turned away from an irritated Shirley and bumped shoulders with Cricket. "How you hanging in there, cowgirl? You can handle your drinkn?"

Cricket turned to Jeremy with a loopy smile and nodded rather slowly. "Ah'm guurd, ah can take c'err of m'self."

Her words slurred together where Jeremy couldn't even grasp a word of two from her.

She didn't listen to Jeremy as he said something about drinking water and walking to their motel in an hour or two. Cricket threw her head back and finished her drink, sighing rather loudly at her empty glass.

"Want another one?"

Her glazed eyes turned to the man leaning against the bar next to her.

"Ahn't yew rather cute," she smiled, her dimples flashing to the man.

The man smiled, showing his very white teeth before laughing. "I've been called several things before but never cute."

"There's ah first time fer everything," Cricket mentioned. "Ah'll take that drink, stranger."

"Embry Call," he introduced himself as he flagged down the bartender. His dark eyes looked into her own, dancing with mirth as she happily hugged the glass cup to her chest.

"Cricket," she merely said as she sipped at her refreshing drink.

Embry laughed, which didn't shock Cricket at all. When people heard her name, they tended to think for a minute, believing that she was lying until she was literally forced to show them her license. It wasn't everyday you heard a rather strange name like her own.

"So, Cricket," he started, leaning a bit towards her to a point where Cricket knew he was going to be asking for something. "Why don't you do me a little favor since I bought you that drink?" he asked, using the back of his index finger to rub against the length of her upper arm in a sort of seductive way.

"If yah wanna git sum, yer gonna have to get 'nuther girl!" she said, chuckling at his failed attempts of seduction.

"No, no, no!" he laughed. "Don't look now, but there's someone behind me, the one wearing the grey sweater with the sleeves torn off, that made a bet with me and he picked you as my victim."

"Whas' the bet?"

Instead of saying it right there and then, Embry leaned towards her, pushing his face into her curls before whispering rather lightly into her ear, "Just look over my shoulder and laugh."

When Cricket looked over his shoulder, she immediately picked out his friend who made the bet. She smirked a sassy grin, watching as his face dropped while the others he was with pounded his back from his lost bet. She began to giggle, face flushed, as Embry let out a rather impressive growl as he rubbed his face all over her very ticklish neck. Just as a show, she brought up her hand and gave the group a thumb up until her eyes met one of the men in the group.

And he was looking at her in livid anger.

"Aw'right, cowboy, ah think-"

Embry was pulled away viciously from her and thrown across the bar. The man, who had been glaring at her, turned to Embry and snarled something to Embry.

"Fuck, Paul, you could've at least given me a warning!" Embry said angrily.

The Paul fellow ignored Embry, sitting on the seat next to Cricket and glared at her. "Why'd you let him do that?" he all but snarled.

She blinked owlishly, her pale green eyes taking in the form of the man who had just stolen the playful Embry's seat.

He was…huge. His arms were beefy, muscular with all the right lines that would've made every woman in sight drool if it wasn't for his scary demeanor of at least six feet. His shoulder span was wide, preventing Cricket from looking over his shoulder to see if Embry was okay. And he towered over her like a castle that refused to crumble at the strongest winds.

His dark eyebrows slashed down his face, making it seem as if he was always angry, always in rage. And those brown eyes of his did nothing to lessen the fact that he was very, very upset with her.

Nostrils flared as the corner of his lip lifted upwards in a sneer.

The thrumming of his fingers on the bar caught her attention. His hands were huge, fingers long and lean; there were a few miniscule scars here and there, but it did nothing to deter the fact that his hands were very, very attractive to Cricket.

A man could do many, many things with those hands.

Cricket actually felt herself staring at this man and immediately ripped her fuzzy state of mind away from it. She looked up at him watching in confusion as suddenly his face expression eased from its darkened anger, as if her ogling him was a treasure to him. She frowned at him and leaned back. "Who 're yew?"

When he smiled, it seemed a bit threatening. His sharp canines glistened in the low lighting of the bar. "I'm Santa, baby." He chuckled darkly, leaning back as he patted his thighs. "Why don't you come and sit on Santa's lap?"

"Ah don't think so, mister. Yew got sum rattlesnake right there ready tah bite." Cricket said pointedly to his crotch.

"No, it just wants to slither in some nice," he said, leaning forward with his dark eyes fastened onto her own. "…wet, dark hole."

Her face flushed with red and she pulled away from him. "Ahhh…" she said, completely lost on the matter of his rather bold words.

Laughter erupting from behind this fellow caught her attention and she narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Is this 'nuther bet?"

Paul glanced over his shoulder and gave his pack a menacing look. The immature pups giggled, nudging each other while the older ones flashed a fang to provoke the temperamental beast. It was unfortunate at times like this all he wanted to do was phase and tackle them to teach a lesson. He turned back to his fiery imprint. "This is anything but a bet."

"Mhmmm," she said, taking the next fresh cup of alcohol from the generous bartender.

"What do you do?" Paul asked, turning his whole body so that he giving his entire attention to her.

Cricket arched a red brow at the man's interest and felt a little sass come into play. "Nunya."

He frowned. "Nunya?"

"None of yer goddamn biz," she snorted, sipping more of her drink.

The dominant wolf didn't take kindly towards her attitude. He leaned forward, his expression darkening as he growled. "It's gonna be my business especially when we're stuck for life." It didn't matter he let a word or two slip, or that his pack had perked at his words.

This was his imprint and he wasn't going to take a slap or two like Jared.

"Wha da hell is tha' suppose ta mean?" Cricket squinted at the dark man in disbelief. Her vision turned blurry, but that didn't mean she was going down like David and the Goliath. She could hold her drink, but that didn't mean she could drink a hell of a lot like some men.

It was then, Cricket actually noticed the man before her.

"Wha a're yew? Indian or sumthin'?" she asked, hiccupping.

Paul smirked at her rather adorable flushed freckled face. "Native American," he responded.

When confirmed, Cricket threw her head back and roared in laughter. It was then she realized what his intentions were in her drunken state. "Oh, ah get it! Yew wanna play wiff me, huh?"

"Only if we're naked," he said, leaning forward with a dark intent.

"Yew wanna play cowboys n' Indians, ey?" She shook her head from side to side, feeling her curls swinging around. "Thas' why yer pickin' on the southern girls, huh? Well, tough luck." Cricket nodded to the other girls from the tour over her shoulder. "There're more fer the pickin'! Yew a'int gettin' a bite of this cookie."

She took another gulp of her drink, watching as he peered over her shoulder to the gals surrounding the much-annoyed Jeremy. "I don't think they look as appealing as you naked," he simply said as if he was talking about the weather.

What really sent her over the edge was the hot look over. She shivered unintentionally, feeling the prickling and tingling sensation of hormonal overload working all over her body.

Cricket took another long gulp of her drink and slammed it on the counter. "W'ell, thass my cue tah leave!"

And just like that, Paul hooked his foot on her barstool and pulled her over to him till they were one inch apart from touching. "You won't be leaving tonight," he said softly, his eyes gazing at her parted lips with only one purpose.

The redhead gasped, looking at his thin, narrow lips with eyes the size of saucers. And just as he was about to bend down and close those three small inches, there was a woman standing at their elbows. "Woah!" Cricket said, pulling herself back like a slingshot.

The growl coming from Paul's throat did nothing to dislodge the girl from their side.

As much as she didn't want to be there, Leah Clearwater had no choice. She picked the smallest straw of the bunch and was forced to approach the two whose arousal was literally stifling the air.

When she cleared her throat, they hadn't heard her much to her discomfort.

Leah had no choice but to come close enough until they noticed her. "Paul, Sam wants us to start patrolling now," Leah hissed, glaring at the rather attractive redhead who arched a brow at her words.

"Whut are yew, sum ranger or a fire fighter?" the redhead asked.

"Something like that," Paul responded with a smirk. "I rather be the fire man to douse that scorching blaze between your—"

"Paul!" Leah said sharply, grasping Paul's arm by the bicep harshly. "We don't have time for your fuck buddies…" she said meaningfully as she glanced at the redhead only to look over said redhead's astonished face and watch as chocolate eyes looked straight at her.

It was like each one of them had magnets and the intensity of the pull was too strong to overcome. Leah released Paul's arm and walked slowly towards the blond man as the fluttering feeling within her chest made her actually smile in its purest form. "Hi," she said rather lamely to the confused Jeremy who responded with a hesitant greeting.

The annoying bitches surrounding her precious imprint were immediately pushed away viciously as she staked her claim.

Cricket turned and watched the russet-colored woman work her magic with Jeremy as she chugged down another drink. "Welp, thas in'terestin'."

"That is one hell of a story," Paul said quietly, watching Leah become a whole different woman before his eyes.

Cricket turned sharply to Paul and frowned adorably. "Ah want a story!"

Paul smirked and leaned back. "Well, hope on Papa Wolf's lap and I'll tell you a story," he said while patting his thighs. He didn't think his imprint would listen to his words until she clumsily started to do his bidding. He expelled a breath of hair when her very lovely bump sat rather hard on his lap, feeling the throbbing ache of pain start in his crotch.

"Isn't it Papa Bear?" Cricket asked.

Once he had himself controlled, Paul answered, "I'm a wolf, sugarlips."

She frowned. "Dun call me that."

He held his hands up in surrender. "Now…about that story," he started, wrapping his arm around her so that she was leaning against his chest much like a small child would. "There once was a man who wanted to do nothing else but worship a redhead's body from head to toe. Starting with her hair," his hand came up and gently caressed the fine tips of her hair. "…her cheeks," his lips brushed against her cheeks. "…her lips—"

"That ain't no story!" Cricket crowed in displeasure. "I want a real story! None of dis sex crap! Honestly! Whut kinda hell of a story is that?"

Damn, his seductions really needed to kick up a notch.

"A porn one," he couldn't help but say.

"Not fer me!" Cricket finished her drink and pointed at the empty glass to catch the bartender's attention. "Gimme one wiff pirates and dragons!"

"A pirate sailed the seven seas just to stick his dragon into a very attractive redhead's—"

"Enough!" she hollered.

Paul laughed, honestly laughed. He didn't catch his pack's amazement, as his whole attention was one the very tall woman who was sitting on his lap. "Alright, alright," he said, placing his hand on her curly head and pushing it to his shoulder till it was lying there. He turned his head into her ear and started whispering softly about the moon and the sky, the weeping stars and the cool breeze traveling against the harsh barrier of the wild.

Cricket began to nod off as she felt the waft of his breath against her cheek. His words tantalizingly played with her mind, throwing images of each letter until there was a story of a man and the sky.

**I shouldn't be writing a new story at all. Oh goodness, haha. I already have so much to juggle but this one was literally bursting to be written. **

**Honestly, I don't know much about Twilight and don't really find myself liking it at all. I couldn't find anything good to read, so I reluctantly entered into the realm of Twilight in hopes of finding something good to read. I came across that I adore Paul's character and very much want to read more. But alas, there were only a few stories that fed my starving self and so I started to write a story with a Paul pairing in hopes to satisfy myself. If you would be so kind as to feed me some information about Twilight and the world of it, I would very much appreciate it! At the mean time, I'll be doing some research! (: **

**So, there you have Cricket! I know the dialogue might be tricky to read, but be patient, haha. I've been working on changing my works of dialogue (instead of the norm nowadays) and decided that she should be a Southerner. It does its trick!**

**If you know any great OC stories with any pairing, be a doll and leave a title and author ;D **

**If any questions, feel free to ask!**

**Enjoy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The warmth of the sunrays splayed over her back lazily.

Cricket sighed into the comforts of the linen sheets, rubbing her cheek up and down the soft fabric much like a satisfied cat. Her muscles groaned as she stretched, bones cracking along her spine with joy. It was then Cricket was confused about her surroundings. She opened her eyes, frowning as she glanced around to see that she was not in the motel.

Sleepily, she sat up and swung her legs off the edge of the bed.

"Da hell?" she murmured, blinking beadily at her skimpy self. At the moment, Cricket was only wearing her yellow-black mismatched undergarments. Being no stranger to randomly stripping in the middle of the night, the cowgirl merely shrugged and stood up, inspecting her surroundings.

The interior design was homey enough. There was a sense of balance and stability in the white walls and brown frames and furniture. But the many clothes that were strewn on the floor disturbed all the feng shui of the room.

She walked towards the open bathroom inside of the room, scratching her back.

There was a sound of metallic clinks but her fuzzy, sleepy mind didn't think much of it.

It was until after she used the restroom and washed her face did she realize something was wrong.

As Cricket reached for the room door, which was three feet away, her right foot was suddenly yanked back causing her to fall on the ground with a yelp. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she turned on her back to see a small silver cuff around the daintiness of her ankle. The thought process was so slow, exactly like mushy applesauce that Cricket didn't understand what the hell was going on for quite some time.

A very feminine screech rang through the air, throwing the crows into the air.

"Whut da hell is goin' on?" she yelled, tugging and pulling at the chain.

It was no use. The chain wouldn't budge and the cuff wasn't too keen on opening up any time too soon.

"Dagnabbit!" Cricket yelled, kicking out her legs in frustration.

"You're awake."

At those words, Cricket jumped to her feet and turned around to see the man who she had met in the bar. "Yew!"

Paul smirked. "Me." His hot eyes slid down her body and the smirk on his face grew with each square of skin inspected.

Cricket snarled, grabbing the corner of the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her like a burrito. "Why?" she snarled, taking huge steps towards him. "Why da hell did yew do this to me, ya pervert! Whut do yew want? W'ere's my tour people?"

Paul turned away from her. He placed the tray of food he had in his hands on the mahogany table next to the window. He hadn't known much about his imprint other than the fact that she was most likely from the southern states. And that she was a tall, leggy, sex kitten in horrid raggedy-ass converse. But his pack had gathered a sufficient amount of information on her while she slept in his arms in the bar.

And he couldn't have his imprint leaving the state to tour the rest of the damn country when he needed her most.

So, while Seth had taken his imprint (something Paul literally had trouble to allow) and delivered her into his own home, Paul followed her scent all the way back to the motel near the freeway and literally purchased his imprint's tale of a lost soul wandering the state of Washington with a hottie from her tour guide who was rather more than pleased to get rid of her from his hands.

It didn't matter that the bastard didn't like his imprint or give a damn about her.

She was his.

"Ah'll call da cops!" Cricket threatened, pointing her index finger at him and waggling it. "Yew'll git in trouble, asswipe! Kidnappin's a crime!"

Paul smirked. "Nobody knows, baby. You're traveling the state of Washington for all who knows."

"Ah'm nawt!"

"Are too, with the help of some people." Paul strode over to her, eyes blazing with arousal as he watched his undergarment-clad imprint staggering back from his massive height. "You're mine, sugarlips. There's no one here to take you away from me."

Cricket snarled, stomping on the ground as she held herself down. "Nuh-uh! I ain't stayin' here!"

"Oh, yes, you are," Paul said. "You're stuck here. With me."

The dark-skinned man swooped towards her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her against that long delicious body of his. His lips ravaged hers, throwing her into a hell of surprise as his tongue came out to play.

Cricket's mind was muddled with thoughts and feelings. She gasped as his tongue traced the inner workings of her mouth, bringing in her bottom lip to his mouth and sucking it vigorously. The redhead moaned like the sex kitten she appeared to be, scratching as his chest as he did some very generous pelvic thrusts towards the V of her thighs.

And just as quickly as it happened, it stopped.

Paul nearly wanted to throw his imprint on his bed and take her right there and then. Her mussed hair and adorably confused face made him throb with wanting. The bottom lip was a tad bit swollen, beckoning the wolf for a second taste. He merely grinned. "I'll see you later, sugarlips."

As quick as lightning, he gathered all the dirty clothes from the floor and threw it in the hallway randomly, as if he was ashamed of his mess.

She gaped at him as he very quickly kissed her deeply once more and just as fast released her and was gone.

Cricket blinked a couple of times, mouth gaping open as she fought to try and understand what the hell was going on. "Dagnabbit!" she cursed, kicking the wooden frame of the bed with her bare foot. She hissed and jumped up and down on one leg, holding the throbbing toe in one hand. "Ah'll cut yer skin al'ive, boy! Yer mama won't e'ven reckon to know w'ere yer body'll be hidden! Ah'll cut yer throat and kick yer ass to kingdom 'come!"

But all the threats went into the air and disappeared.

Snarling with much fury, Cricket stomped towards the tray full of breakfast and grudgingly admired it. She sat down on the wooden chair and snatched the plastic utensil from the tray. The fork stabbed into the neatly cooked hash browns, stuffing it into her mouth with much vengeance.

It might seem like an angry woman eating her meal to anyone, but to Cricket, she was mulling over a plan: a plan to escape.

Cricket was so concentrated on her breakfast that she didn't hear a muffled yelling at first. It wasn't until she got annoyed with a sound, did she lift her head up and gaped out the window.

There, in all his naked glory, was Jeremy.

"_Cricket!"_ he mouthed (yelling through the glass window) as he pounded it with his fists. When he tried to say something else, an equally naked woman crept up from behind with a mischievous grin and snatched him away from the window.

She blinked blankly before turning back to her meal. "Ah could'a swore ah juss saw J'ermy!"

It was then she realized that the complete American breakfast (with the neatly cut potatoes, scrambled eggs, and wheat toast) was placed together with plastic utensils. Cricket brought the spork up to her face and frowned menacingly.

As if she was going to allow this to stop her.

Bringing up her ankle upon her opposite thigh, Cricket started stabbing the silver clasp around her ankle in hopes that it would fall off miraculously. When the spork broke and hit her right between the eyes, she shrieked in anger and threw it across the room.

"Dagnabbit!" she cursed, standing up rapidly. Like a caged animal, she started pacing around the room, muttering beneath her breath and crossing her arms over her chest, contemplating quickly on how to escape.

"Ah need a plan!" she whispered loudly.

The importance of her returning to the motel, along with Jeremy, was a big one. She knew that today was the day, directly at five o' clock in the afternoon, to pack up their bags and go back to the bus, which was probably fixed by now. She couldn't, she _couldn't_, miss that tour bus! Cricket just couldn't believe that her life was bought from that ass shat of a tour guide and was to be given to her parents! Her parents will believe, oh, they will! And that's what worried her the most.

They'll take her money!

Cricket spewed out colorful words like a sailor. When her hip bumped into the corner of a nightstand, she yelped and jumped back. It wasn't until Cricket was staring at the teetering lamp that an idea sparked.

She was a big gal. Standing at an impressive model height of 5'11, Cricket had a feeling that she could attempt this risky escape with a 50% chance of escaping.

First thing was first…she needed clothes. There was no way anybody would help a woman clad in her undergarments seriously. If anything it'll be jumping from the sizzling pan to the fire.

Her leafy green eyes scrutinized the area, stalking around from what the chain will allow to find some clothes. Within seconds of desperation, everything with doors and drawers were opened and empty. There had to be something here. Something! What kind of person had a room with no clothes?

It wasn't until Cricket went down to her knees and glanced under the bed to see a couple of crumpled clothes.

She pulled it out from underneath and stared at the slutty clothes on a prostitute could be proud to wear. Grimacing with a helpless shrug, Cricket pulled on the more than necessary ripped up daisy dukes that left her ass cheeks greeting the world with a friendly southern 'howdy'. The black painfully glittering halter top with a plunging v-line down to her navel made Cricket gawk at the audacity some women had to wear these clothes of ripped up paper in public.

More likely, Cricket was wearing the clothes of the asshole's previous conquests.

A grimace covered her features as Cricket attempted to ignore the fact that she was wearing someone's clothes, which was probably infected from the innumerous uncured STDs in the world.

"Focus on escaping!" she whispered to herself.

The determined woman turned towards the vase. She leaned her head from side to side, stretching out her arms to prepare herself for the battle that was to come. Practicing, she unplugged the huge lamp and turned to the bed. With practice shots, she lightly tossed the lamp onto the huge king-size bed, aiming for one spot continuously until she was certain that she wouldn't miss. If she did, there was backup with the metal trashcan off to the side that she can utilize.

As Cricket continued to practice, she heard the telltale of heavy feet walking down the corridor. Quickly, she held the lamp with a death grip and hid behind the door.

The footsteps stopped dead before the room door and stood there quietly.

Her eyes immediately went to the doorknob, which was twisting, but the door never pushed open. Cricket gulped, refusing to shift her weight from leg to leg as the sudden need to urinate blared within her mind.

The door slammed open without a warning.

Cricket yelped and jumped back before the door squished her against the wall. She looked up to see the man's face encased with a mixture of rage and fear. Quickly, she let out a war cry and threw the lamp at his head hard. It shattered into a bunch of ceramic pieces, raining on the floor with a xylophone sound to it. Not wanting to completely depend on the heavy lamp, she grabbed the metallic trashcan at her feet and swung it hard internally cringing when the trashcan dented and a sickening crack echoed.

His body dropped like a rock.

She panted, leaning back against the wall and felt her body come down from its adrenaline high. Her naked foot kicked out at the body. When he remained unresponsive, she dove for his pockets.

"Key, key! Ah need da key!" Cricket said loudly, searching for any key that might open the entrapment around her ankle before a raging monster started beating the crap out of her.

Lord all Mighty!

Her fingers closed around a small key and pulled it out. She nearly cried with delight as she fought to slide the key into the lock, missing a few times until she managed to hear a click. Cricket immediately jumped up and headed for the door.

She couldn't help but look back at the motionless body. As much as she wanted to run and cry with glee, something within her pulled her towards the man.

"Dagnabbit, ah a'int getting' no Stockholm Syndrome!" she snarled and turned away.

Small pale feet pattered down the steps of each stair. Cricket held her breath, glancing from one way down to the other in case there were other kidnappers in the area. Quietly, she approached the door in front of her and opened it.

As much as Cricket wanted to screech down the road for help, something pulled her back.

Again, the possibility from jumping from the pan into the fire blared in her head.

With a cautious outlook, Cricket stepped out of the house and looked around. She frowned, walking slowly out in the open as the area she was in looked off. Where she lived in the city with sidewalks and green grass, it seemed as if she was in the countryside of the states. There were dirt roads, tall, and many, trees, with houses that were scattered around with no sense of order.

Jesus Christ, it looked like she was in a murder movie.

Cricket gulped audibly, walking forward with her naked feet and ignored the pinching rocks piercing her skin.

"Are you okay?"

Faster than lightning, the redheaded cowgirl whipped around to see a woman standing on the porch of one of the houses with a rag cleaning a plate.

Cricket studied the woman.

The woman's head cocked to the right, her long black straight hair falling over her shoulder. The copper skin of the woman matched equally with her hair and her chocolate-colored eyes. She had a smile upon her face as gentle as a dove and as welcoming as a mother's as her eyes were filled with concern from Cricket's obvious need for shoes and other things. The only thing noticeable to Cricket's eyes from her place was the vicious marks down the side of her face.

She gulped, self-consciously pulling down the daisy dukes to avoid her ass cheeks from greeting the woman in equal kindness…it didn't help.

The redhead can only imagine she looked like a college girl avoiding the walk of shame.

"Ah was juss wu'nderin' if y'all would be so kind to tell me w'ere the hell ah'm at," she said, clenching her fists in to hold herself still and not fly out of the area like a burglar.

"Oh," the woman said, pausing in her cleaning of the plate.

Two spots of red appeared on Cricket's face when the woman glanced down at her wardrobe.

"Why don't you come in? I'll have my fiancé help you out with that."

And at those kind woman's words, a man stepped out from behind her. Imposing and intimidated, the man stood at a well six feet over. His shoulders were just as wide as the man who had kidnapped her, and looked like there were extra meats of steel packed underneath his skin. His face was just as threatening as his figure. Just like those two, his aura spoke of immediate command and obedience.

It clicked. He looked exactly like the man who kidnapped her.

Without even waiting for an explanation or her mind for a second plan, Cricket darted. She ignored the calls of the two, running through the trees for escape.

She heard a muffle call of her name, but shrugged it off. She'll find help for Jeremy at the police station and bring them.

Cricket moved her long legs quickly, ignoring the pain spiking through her side and the burning of her lungs. Her muscles screamed from weariness after a mere five minutes of running, but it didn't deter her. There was no option of running. All she had to do was continue forth, even when small sticks and stones wounded the softness of her naked feet. Thankfully, the trees were largely separated by a huge amount of space so that there wouldn't be any chaffing or scratching of her delicate skin. Not that she was going to let that prevent her from running wild.

The sound of a wolf howling nearly brought her to her knees.

"Oh, gawd," she cried out, glancing around.

She was going to be eaten by wolves.

With a burst of added adrenaline, Cricket sped through the ground like a knife cutting a loaf of bread. Old muscles from the old days of track running groaned with the remembrance of hard work and sweat that brought her first in many of her competitions. Despite her walking at 5'11, she conquered many of her races with grace.

Cricket's ears perked at the sound of heavy breathing. And that made her run uncoordinatedly with desperation, making her form becoming sloppy from it. She refused to glance over her shoulder at whatever the hell it was chasing her.

A flash of fur teased her peripheral vision.

Her foot hooked onto one of the surfaced roots of a tree, sending her slamming into the ground. Cricket groaned, slowly pushing herself up by her hands, looking up only to see wolves that could only be described as colossal surrounded her.

Her dirt-speckled face gaped at the wolves around her. A strangled whimper squeezed from her throat as the wolves began to circle around her. She didn't count how many there were but she knew there was more than enough to leave these tattered clothes of some slut on her deathbed. Her hands began to tremble as one wolf snarled viciously near her.

"Shit, shit, shit," she whispered, digging her fingers into the dirt and clenching hard to gain some sense of stability.

A random wolf came close enough to stick his cold nose against the length of her neck.

"Git away!" she screamed, stupidly slapping the wolf by the muzzle as she leapt up.

The innumerous growls and snarls from the wolves surrounding her was strong enough to make it seem like she was leaning against the engine of a car, listening to it roar to life.

"Away wiff yew, freakin' werewolves!" she yelled.

A nearby wolf made a noise that sounded like it scoffed.

Cricket glared at the wolves surrounding her. It shouldn't be that different from coyotes, right? Flailing her arms around, she screamed hysterically, clapping her hands and charging the wolves, hoping that they would retreat from her wild self. When the wolves did so, a small spark of hope flared within her and she continued to do her little wild dance.

"Git away! Yer ain't nuthin' but sum pile of fur!" she yelled, kicking dirt at their eyes.

One wolf snarled awfully, roaring and crouching to a point where Cricket thought it'd be the end of her life.

Suddenly, a sandy-colored wolf, small than those surround her, jumped in its way, flashing white pearly fangs glittering with saliva.

Without a warning, the two titanic wolves engaged in a fight. The one who had meant to attack her from the moment she sprayed dirt in its face, overpowered the small one that tried to defend her. Immediately, the two huge wolves rolled towards her and she yelped, only having a split second to dodge the snapping canines.

The other wolves were absorbed with the little squabble, biting and clawing at the two wolves fighting. It gave Cricket a chance to dodge through their huge bodies and run for safety.

There was no way she could've gotten away as much as she would've liked.

With the weight of a freight train, Cricket was slammed into the ground. A choking groan made way from her throat, eyes shut tight with pain as her ribs screamed from the little movement of her breathing. She gasped loudly and tried to prevent herself from gulping huge amounts of air as it was causing the agony along her side to skyrocket. Cricket whimpered with no shame, feeling tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

A terrifying roar echoed through the eerie trees. It didn't catch Cricket's attention as she writhed in pain, holding her ribs gently; neither did the suddenly nervous shuffling wolves was brought to her notice.

Paul broke into the scenario like a madman out of the asylum, his panic-filled eyes shifting everywhere as he ignored his pack brothers. The wolf in him was full of anxiety despite the full on blow to the head he received from his imprint. Nothing of that mattered. What only mattered was the intense need to locate his mate.

"Where is she?" he snapped to his brothers, too high on worry to worry about how he talked to them.

"Paul," Embry said warningly, standing nude due to his transfer of forms.

Cricket didn't hear the agonizing bellow, but she did feel the soft petting of her face. She opened her leafy eyes to see pain-filled ones staring down at her. "Oh, gawd," she choked out and right away closed her eyes.

Her captor was there.

He probably unleashed these demon werewolves on her as soon as he noticed she went missing.

"What happened?" he snarled, glaring at his brothers as he held his imprint carefully within his arms. "Why is she hurt?"

Embry's shifting eyes to a nervous wolf made him flash his teeth at the prepubescent shifter.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Collin, who hadn't fully mastered his wolf/powers, was wringing his hands.

"I'm gonna kill you, Collin!" he howled, removing himself from his imprint and launching through the air. His human skin exploded with fur and his size grew multiple sizes bigger than his human body. Without further ado, he attacked the young pup that yelped in shock.

The others joined in, never noticing that the human behind them was staring with wide eyes.

Holy shit.

_Holy shit._

What kind of weed had she been smoking? Had she even been smoking at all? Cricket lay on her back and turned her head away from the mess of fur flying around with viciousness only a snake could define. She blinked rapidly, holding her rib with her hand before she started laughing hysterically. The tension her body was filled with slowly eased away as she continued to laugh with no purpose and leisurely started sobbing like a babe.

With strength that came out of nowhere, Cricket forced herself up.

"Come here," the man said, bending down to help her up.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted, trembling with fear from the man-animal shifter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Paul wanted to cry from the sheer terror emitting from her body. His hands, which were about to land on her shoulder, froze in the air, unsure of what to do. The need to comfort and nuzzle her neck called him, but he refused to when she was quivering like a rabbit before the wolves.

He backed away from her, staring at her holding her side as her head bowed. Her red curls were like curtains around her face, preventing anyone from catching a glimpse of her.

She looked so fearful.

The rage, which had simmer from her sobs, grew back tenfold and all he wanted to do was shred Collin into ribbons.

His vision turned red, shifting to the already mangled teen wolf. The wolf in him snapped its pearly fanged jaws, chest rumbling with the need for blood over his imprint's distress. His unlimited ferocity, which he still had issues controlling (even with the help of Sam), exploded, and the temperamental wolf was unleashed with a fury of a thousand suns.

He blacked out.

And when he came back into his senses, something was amiss.

"Holy shit, someone call Sam!" Jared yelled, hovering over something. "Hey, hey, wake up!"

It was then, like a movie, images flowed through Paul's head like a river, showing him that through his actions, his brothers attempted to restrain him. And when Embry latched onto his back, Paul kicked out instinctively (much like a rodeo horse), throwing his imprint back and causing her to slam against a nearby tree.

Her limp, unresponsive body penetrated through his mind.

And because of that, Paul went ballistic.

**Oh gosh, there were more than one scene for the ending and I couldn't choose the right one. I had a minor writer's block, but managed to get passed it! (: There was a little humor in the beginning, but I wanted the whole "I JUST SAW A FREAKING WEREWOLF" reality to be there, looool. **

**I honestly wish I could update everyday, but my life prevents me from doing that :( Because of that, my unscheduled updates often leaves reviewers waiting for ages just for the next chapter. I'm also balancing a fictionpress account with my fanfic one, so I often update one after the other. **

**Thank you for those who reviewed! I'm glad you're enjoying the story!**

**Again, I know nothing about Twilight, besides the obvious from the fanfics, and maybe some characters might be OCC. If so, please do tell so I can tweak them (: If anyone can feed me information on imprints and their feelings to their mates, etc., I'd really appreciate it!**

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Regin** Kathalla _momoXvolturi_ **Destinyrose18** xiMenagerie

**Guest – **I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! Hopefully, I can update this story more frequently, but we'll just have to see!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The moment Paul's imprint was carried off, he went insane.

Jacob and Embry continuously blocked him off, allowing Quil and the others to make a break for it while they barricaded the berserk wolf further into the forest. He roared in painful agony as the image of his unconscious woman flashed through his mind, fighting harder to try and move past his two wolf brothers. They allowed him nothing other than the sharp claws and fangs to push himself deeper within the forest, preventing Paul from running himself through the safety of the people and cause discord.

And it wasn't easy. Jacob and Embry each bore marks upon their hide from the enraged wolf. They snarled and growled, warning Paul of his actions, but it was no use.

It had nearly taken them half an hour to tire Paul though he was still running on pure adrenaline. As they were equally exhausted, Jacob and Embry felt heavily relieve when Sam entered the area with Quil at his side.

"Paul, calm yourself," Sam ordered.

Paul snarled viciously, lowering his head as to challenge his alpha.

"Down!"

The alpha command vibrated madly within Paul's bones and within less than a second, the titanic wolf was down on his stomach with his head lowered in submission. His anger and fury was portrayed by the snarling and growling coming from him. He moved his head slightly as if trying to lift off the magnetic command off of him, attempting to thrash his head from side to side, but it was impossible.

Once Paul was settled down, Sam turned to Jacob and Embry. "What happened?"

Embry shuffled uneasily. "Collin couldn't control himself."

Jacob stepped forward. "Collin can't control himself." He gave a brief look to Embry before continuing. "We had no knowledge of an imprint being upon the reservation ground! One thing led to another this morning and we saw a human running around and immediately went to control the situation." Jacob's eyes slid over to Paul. "She got out of control and panicked, tried to avoid us but Collin accidentally…bumped into her when he was fighting off Seth," he hesitated, knowing that a simple bump was more like a body slam to a fragile human.

Sam frowned. "Collin was fighting Seth?"

"More like, Seth was trying to control an angry Collin after the woman kicked sand in his eyes," Embry corrected.

"Is that it?"

Jacob and Embry exchanged glances. "Paul came while his imprint was in pain, reacted to it and attacked Collin. I tried to help out with the situation and was atop of Paul and he kicked…his imprint."

"He deliberately kicked his imprint?" Sam's narrowed eyes went to Paul who was still rumbling like an engine of terror.

"No, it was also an accident."

Sam turned heel and started walking off to the direction of his home. "Embry, take Paul back to his home and get him in bed. If he gives you any lip or tries anything come get me. I don't want him to go crazy when I take the woman to the hospital."

"You can't!" Paul, who shifted into his human skin, was panting harshly as he fought to stand. Bite marks and wounds riddled his body like a voodoo doll. "You can't do that."

"Why not?" Sam asked, threatened by Paul's tone of voice.

Paul was still panting heavily and turned his face away, avoiding to answering the question. Paul ignored the three of them when they disappeared, knowing well enough that they would listen to his words even if they were uncomfortable. He stayed there on the forest ground, breathing in and out, feeling the need to attend to his mate like a persistent fly. Paul stood, swaying from side to side as he dragged himself back to the reservation naked.

There was nothing that prevented Sam's rage when he had learned Paul kidnapped his imprint from her tour around America. Paul was inevitably punished as both animal and human. While he had gotten the beating of a lifetime from his alpha, he was also commanded to stay away from his imprint (who was currently staying within the Uley's home) until she was awake.

Sam had also been immensely disappointed at the uncaring Leah when he also learned of her imprint, Jeremy, who was much too tired to deal with the outside world when he was continuously used for her sexual pleasure and constant needy attention.

A week had passed since the unfortunate event and Paul was still whining like a sad puppy. The separation between him and his imprint was unbearable that he was constantly in his wolf form, roaming around the reservation to try and drain himself of the energy so he wouldn't have to feel the suffering within him. Paul had tried on multiple counts to sneak into the Uley's home, but Sam was always there with punishment and discipline.

It wasn't until another three days did Paul feel something twinge in his chest.

There was pain.

It was everywhere.

Cricket opened her eyes and groaned quietly. Her eyes fluttered from the bright light and she was mighty tempted to throw the blanket over her face. And that was exactly what she did, which resulted in a fiery agony traveling up her spine.

"Mudd'r fuck'r!" Cricket howled, wincing as the pain skipped along happily.

She coughed, struggling to sit up but couldn't. Her arms waved around until she was able to claw a couple pillows and throw them underneath her to try and create a slanted pillowy hill. Cricket huffed and puffed, feeling completely drained from the small action.

Her green eyes darted around to see that she was in an unfamiliar room. "Wha's goin' on?" she mumbled, glaring at her surroundings as she tried to retrace her past memories. Of course, there was nothing that would make her forget about the trip around America, and there was no angel or devil (high or low) that would remove the image of a saucy Native American bent on diving into her panties. But after that, she couldn't remember.

She was kidnapped, yes, but what had happened after that?

Cricket sighed and looked down at herself to see a Victorian-like baby blue nightgown upon her. Her face twisted in confusion as she rubbed the fabric between her two fingers, never before seeing such a thing in her life.

Suddenly, the door opened.

"You're awake!" the kind woman exclaimed, quickly walking towards Cricket and gazing down at her with equally kind eyes. "Oh, goodness, it's a miracle you're even alive!"

Cricket narrowed her eyes at that comment. "Wha's tha suppose' tah mean?"

The scarred woman frowned. "You don't remember?"

Cricket stared at the woman in suspicion. There was something in the back of her mind nagging at her, trying to tell her something, but she didn't know what it was. This woman seemed familiar. The heavily wounded scar made the skin sag slightly, her eye drooping just a tad bit. Long hair was braided off to the side and her russet skin spoke of the same heritage as Papa Wolf. "Do aye kno' yew?"

The woman wiped her moist hands upon the white frilly apron upon her and extended a hand. "Emily Uley."

Cricket hesitated. "Cricket Turner." Giving a good two pumps, she retracted her hand. "Where am I?"

"You're in La Push."

"And tha's where?"

"Oregon."

Cricket groaned, pushing down on the mattress with her hands to try and sit up higher. "Do ya think ya can do me a fav and bring me a phone, Emily?"

When Emily's posture stiffened, Cricket narrowed her eyes. "Ya guys do have a phone, right?"

"Emily,"

A heavy, deep voice called for both women's attention.

Cricket turned and saw a tall, muscular man standing at the filling of the doorway. His dark eyes were narrowed and glittering with suspicion. Emily flounced over to him and pecked his cheek with a giggle, which did nothing to lessen his dangerous demeanor.

"I'll get lunch ready," Emily said and disappeared, leaving Cricket to fend for herself.

The southern cowgirl watched carefully as the man strode into the room and placed himself upon a chair near the foot of her bed. He gazed at her with a studying glare before finally relenting by crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the chair. His legs were extended, but his posture still screamed of an animal on the edge of defending its territory.

"I reckon you muss be the husband." Cricket started slowly.

"Sam Uley."

"Cricket Turner."

Sam nodded slowly. "You've been out for quite a while," he stated.

"How long?" Cricket asked slowly.

"A week and three days."

Cricket's eyes widened to an impossible degree. "Wha duh fuck!" she yelled. "How da hell did ah end up sleepin' fer ten days?" she shrieked, sitting up higher in her seat until she felt something awful. Cricket frowned, wiggling in her seat once more to hear a crinkling sound and pushed away the heavy quilt upon her body. With no regards to the man before her, she pulled up the nightgown to see a diaper attached to her.

She stared at it for a full ten seconds.

"Ah…ah'm wearin' a…diaper?"

At this even the russet man turned a bit red. He cleared his throat and hastily explained, "Even during a coma, the body doesn't stop working—"

"Ah fuckin' kno tha!" Cricket snarled. "Who the hell chang'd me?"

He sighed heavily. "We worked out a schedule for your benefit, in order to keep you healthy and clean—"

"Pervert! Fuckin' willy wankin' perverts! I'll fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' Dilly Dong Dick! Yew juss wanted tah see if tah carpets match the drapes, ehh? Well, it fuckin' does!" Cricket yowled in fury, struggling underneath the heavy quilts to try and rake his face with her nails. "Ah'm gunna call da police and it a'int gon be funny any longer! Yer friend'll be charged with kidnap and horseshit!"

Sam's face darkened. "There won't be anything concerning the police."

"Yew can't do tha!"

"I can," he snapped, standing up at his full height. "I'm sorry that it had to come to this, Cricket Turner, but my people are more important and now that you're connected with us, you'll just have to be accustomed to our ways and living. You won't be returning home any sooner, and I'm deeply sorry for that. But in order to protect my pack, I won't allow a wayward human risk our safety when we are needed at most." With that, he gave her a sharp nod and left, closing the door behind him.

Cricket didn't think about his use of diction. All she did was release a high-pitch scream of fury.

"A'int no one gon control this cowgirl, nobody!" Cricket hissed with indignation, already preparing an escape plan.

**This is a very short chapter, but I had to update it one way or the other. From now on, the chapters will probably be something of this length so I can update it as often and not hold back just to write a full ten pages, lol. **

**If I'm making any mistakes, go ahead and correct me. **

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Loula Lahote** Lilydukes _OPOSOJOJ_ **Maxsmomma** Destineyrose18 _momoXvolturi_ **Zohorat**


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